Stories from the Second Wizarding War
by Emperor Ferus
Summary: Series of One Shots during the second wizarding war lasting from 1995-1998. Features canon-compliant scenes depicting what we didn’t see during this time.
1. chapter 1

The Riddle Mansion stood alone amid the hillside of Little Hangleton, a good distance from the neighboring villages. It was late at night, and only a lone, hooded figure walked along the grass towards the abandoned home that had once belonged to a wealthy Muggle family.

The Dark Mark shined brightly over the mansion, now visible to Death Eaters. Severus Snape rolled back his sleeve to reveal his own burning mark, indicating two things; his former master was near, and Lord Voldemort was.furious.

Snape was not too worried about the wrath of Voldemort, he would pay most dearly for his lateness, but Voldemort was too pragmatic to throw away such a useful asset as Snape. Snape knew exactly how he would deal with his master's anger

As he approached the Riddle manor, Snape began applying his extensive training in Occlumency, purging his mind of any thoughts or feelings that would give away his true intentions. He couldn't erase everything that ran through his veins, the Dark Lord would become too suspicious.

So he allowed his very real rage directed toward Albus Dumbledore to remain, as well as his genuine hatred for Harry Potter, the boy who had just escaped from the Dark Lord for the fourth time. Everything else had to be cleansed from his soul.

 _Precious, entitled Potter. Like father, like son._

Two robed, masked figures guarded the front porch leading into the hollow, rickety homestead.

One of them raised his wand upon recognizing the newcomer and before Snape could retaliate, the other Death Eater seized his arm and said, "Peace, Goyle."

Snape relaxed upon hearing the voice of Lucius Malfoy and threw back his hood as his old friend and colleague approached.

"You're taking an awful risk, coming here now," Lucius said as he removed his mask, reaching to clasp Snape's hand, "the Dark Lord is in no good mood tonight."

"I'm well aware, Lucius," Snape replied in his usual cool manner, not looking the other man right in the eye, "I shall present him with my... reasons...for returning late and hope they suffice."

"I'm due to see Cornelius Fudge soon," Lucius informed the Potions Master regretfully, "I'm afraid there's little I can do to vouch for you now."

"I'll take my chances," Snape replied as he stepped past the senior Goyle onto the decrepit wooden porch towards the open doorway.

The main lobby of the manor was dark, lit only by the Dark Mark above the house. A hiss and the sound of a slithering snake sent an involuntary shiver down Snape's back.

The fireplace in the sitting room was active, the flames illuminating a tall, thin figure facing away from Snape. Nagini, the Dark Lord's pet, slithered dutifully at his feet.

Nagini let out a hiss and the Dark Lord, in his high, cold voice, replied to her in Parseltongue, a language far beyond the comprehension of Snape.

At last, the Dark Lord spoke, still facing away from Snape.

"You are dismissed, Lucius."

"Thank you, my lord." Lucious briefly knelt on the boarded floor, then stood and with a flick of his wand, Disapparated from the spot.

Nagini was now facing Snape directly, exposing her sharp, long fangs and glaring hungrily at the new arrival. As if no time had passed since he had last seen his master, Snape knelt on the floor, not daring to look up at Voldemort.

Voldemort at last turned around, fixing his scarlet eyes on the man bowing before him.

"I confess, Severus, I thought you had forgotten me in favor of old Dumbledore," he said, "I wondered if you had gotten too comfortable at Hogwarts and were content to live out your life under the old man's protection."

Snape took a deep breath and gulped, about to speak to the man who he had once worshipped and later mortally despised, after fourteen years once again in the presence of the most feared Dark Wizard of the modern age.

"Never, my lord. I have played my part under Dumbledore's watch in the hope of returning to your side one day."

An excrucating silence followed broken by a purr from the malicious Nagini. Snape waited as Voldemort paced the room.

"I want to believe you, Severus, but I'm afraid I can't. Why, if you waited for me as faithfully as you now claim, did you not seek me out as did Barty Crouch, or Bellatrix Lestrange. Why, after the war was over, did you choose to remain at Hogwarts at Dumbledore's side?"

Snape had replayed this exact scenario in his mind many times tonight, as well as in his sleep for the past decade and a half, and responded with his ready answer.

"Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard, my lord, I cannot deny it. My only answer to your humble excellency is that I hoped that one day, with you returned to full power, I could take advantage of his trust to bring him down from within. Believe me, Master, there is nobody I hate more than Albus Dumbledore."

This wasn't a total lie, Snape mused as he awaited judgement from his master.

Nagini moved her long body between the Dark Lord's pacing feet as Snape's eyes remained trained to the blackened floor.

Voldemort slowly drew his wand from his long, black robes. He caresses the white stick in his hands, still getting accustomed to its feel, and then pointed it at his former servant.

"Crucio!"

This was not Snape's first time under the Cruciatus curse, and he had mentally braced himself for its affect ever since there was a doubt in his mind that Voldemort would one day return. The curse itself brought great agony even to the strongest and most disciplined beings, but Snape had already endured far worse torture that made it seem like child's play.

Yet to satisfy his master, and give Voldemort the pleasure he sought, Snape screamed, as if the Curse was the worst pain he'd experienced in his life. He howled as he rolled around, unable to control his joints or his voice box.

As last Voldemort relented and stared hard at the man before him.

Once again, Voldemort pointed his wand at Snape, this time uttering a different spell. "Legillimens!"

And thus the Dark Lord was allowed into the mind of Severus Snape. The mind, but not the heart.

 _Clear your mind, clear your mind._

And as Snape laid on the floor of the Riddle Mansion, he could see exactly what he was allowing Voldemort to see, the parts not hidden by his masterful use of Occlumency.

He relived his own resentment as Dumbledore awarded Gryffindor the House Cup, his burning rage as Harry and his friends cheered and embraced.

The hatred was as fresh as it had been the first time as Dumbledore ordered him to help protect the Chosen One, the son of the man who had once been the scourge of his existence. How dare he ask that of me, after he failed to do his part?

Snape was snapped out of his memories by the Dark Lord. "Your hatred for young Potter stands strong, as does your resentment of Dumbledore. However, I have further reason for concern. Do you recall, three years ago, a man by the name of Quirnus Quirrell?"

"I remember him all too well, my Lord," Snape replied as he climbed back onto his feet and for the first time, faced the Dark Lord. Those slits that served as eyes, that hollow, reptilian face, the pale skin that was twisted by extensive use of Dark Magic...

"Then you will recall my efforts to obtain the Philosopher's Stone from Hogwarts School, through possession of Quirrell. What were your exact words that night? I believe they were 'you don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell. We'll chat again when you've decided where your loyalties lay.' Why, if you were waiting for me with such patience and intent, would you attempt to aid Old Albus I'm stopping me from attaining the one thing at the time that could have brought me back? Can you explain that one to me, Severus?"

"My lord... your greatness remembers Quirrell as well as I do, and such a wise being as yourself will recognize a fool when he sees one. Quirrell was a weak being, and thus was naturally drawn to power. It was my fear that the coward Quirrell would ultimately betray your lordship and use the Stone for himself instead."

Snake waited with his anxiety beginning to rise, doubt in himself creeping in for the first time. He pushed it down quickly, unable to afford anything but confidence in his use to the Dark Lord. That was what would keep him alive.

"Indeed, Quirrell was a cowardly fool, much like Wormtail," Voldemort admitted, "he proved incompetent in the end, defeated by the touch of a pubescent boy."

"My lord, I promise to continue to serve you as faithfully as I once did, with no higher motive than your will. With the trust of Dumbledore, I intend to use my postion to give you the utmost advantage over our enemies. I can help bring down the Ministry and Hogwarts from within."

Voldemort gazed down at Nagini as he contemplated Snape's offer of renewed service.

"Very well, Severus, all the evidence points in your favor, and a spy such as yourself would be beyond useful at this time. You shall continue to live and resume your role as a double agent. Do not forget however, that Lord Voldemort is your true master, not Dumbledore, and Voldemort does not forgive so easily. Nor do I tolerate uselessness."

Snape once again bowed to his master, his confidence in his ultimate mission restored. "I shall maintain my asset to you as long as I can, my lord."

"Good. Return to Hogwarts, Severus Snape, and ensure Dumbledore's deluded confidence remains. I will be waiting for news from the Order of the Phoenix. Do me proud, Severus."

Snape nodded respectfully and began to stride out of the sitting room.

Another yell of, "CRUCIO!" and Snape was on the floor, hit by totally unexpected pain, yelling throughout the walls of the Riddle Manor.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Even though this short story contains elements from my now-deleted fic _The Scorpion King,_ it has no connection and is self contained. A/N

Yet the wife of the Malfoy patriarch paid no mind to the minutes ticking by, nor to the crowds of parents and children reuniting, Mrs Crabbe and Mrs Goyle predictably rushing their sons out of there before the blood traitors took notice and gave looks; like her Lucius, their husbands had been taken prisoner by the Ministry.

Narcissa was not soft on Muggle borns or the Muggles whose filthy blood they carried. While the Malfoys did not practice inbreeding unlike her birth family, the Blacks, they carried the notion of pureblood supremacy as strongly as anyone with proper Wizarding pride. It was unproud families such as the Weasleys that were proving to be a cancer in the body of the magical population, Narcissa bore no illusions about that.

However, unlike her sister Bellatrix and her beloved master, Narcissa had never until Lucius' recruitment thought of actually exterminating the dirty populations, merely keeping them contained. She had little sympathy for Mudbloods, they were unworthy of attending the same school as her Draco, to be sure, but she did not entirely understand how Bellatrix was capable of casting the Cruciatus curse and laughing at the same time.

At last, the thin, blond boy had recomposed his appearance to present himself to his mother, and hobbled shamefully through the barrier pushing his luggage trolley. His face etched with humiliation, Draco immediately made eye contact with his mother and strode towards her.

Narcissa knew better than to wrap her son in a tight hug in the middle of the train station, but it pained her greatly not to. The only thing more agonizing was thinking of her husband Lucius, having fallen from grace in the Ministry and locked in Azkaban, having failed to complete his mission.

Yet Lucius' public reputation was the least of his worries, Narcissa realized, and the worries of the family. Lord Voldemort's reaction to Lucius' failure would be beyond harsh, and Narcissa had seen enough to know exactly who the Dark Lord would target to punish his former right-hand man.

As Draco drew near his mother, Narcissa settled for putting a hand on his shoulder as she assisted in removing his luggage from the trolley. Draco looked down at his boots, then returned a nasty look from a boy named Seamus Finnegan.

"Gotten hexed lately, Death Eater?"

"Fuck you, blood traitor!"

"Draco," Narcissa admonished her son gently and quietly as she took a hold of a suitcase.

Draco clutched the other suitcase as Narcissa drew her wand. Her son tightly gripped her arm as she Apparated them from King's Cross Station back onto the front porch of the stately Malfoy Manor.

Oddly, the mansion now possessed a grim, forbidding aura, perhaps because of the fate of its master.

Trembling, Narcissa let go of the luggage and opened the door to the manor. She stepped back in shock at the tall, domineering figure of Bellatrix Lestrange standing at the entryway.

"Bella," Narcissa said breathlessly, "You're here."

Draco gave a barely perceptible whimper and slid slightly behind his mother, who was nowhere near big enough in frame to hide him.

"Cissy, I'm afraid this is very serious," Bellatrix told her. Evidently, she had been in tears, crying wildly like she only did when her master was cross with her. She had an obsessive need to please the Dark Lord, to a far greater degree than another given Death Eater.

"Is it about Lucius?" Narcissa inquired, terrified to the bone of what was to come.

"It's about Draco," Bellatrix squeaked, and another figure emerged from the sitting room to join her.

Narcissa had hardly seen Lord Voldemort the first time Lucius had served him, and Draco never had. Yet for the junior Malfoy, there was no questioning the identity of the bald, towering man glaring at him. He gave out a gasp and a slight gag as Voldemort spoke.

"Narcissa Black, I am certain you know of your husband's... unfortunate fate."

Narcissa had no idea where to begin in speaking to this man, so she settled for a nod of the head that could have been translated as a bow.

"Lucius was such a fine servant for so long," Voldemort went on in that trademark high, cold voice of poison, "It is a shame that when it mattered the most, he proved to be unable to fulfill his most crucial task."

Narcissa wanted nothing more to cover Draco with her body and hide him from the monster in their home. She could feel her son's sheer terror, his urge to run, hide, cry. There was no pretending anymore, no escape from the ruthless reality they were all doomed to. Lucius had sealed their son's fate as soon as he had sworn allegiance to Voldemort, years before Draco had been born.

She was very reluctant to think of her own sister Bellatrix as a sick, twisted person, but in the end, there was no other type of being who would carry such a fanatical devotion to the most feared wizard in memory. Had Lucius known what he was getting into back then, when he'd been a young, idealistic man carrying on the beliefs passed on to him from past generations, the same beliefs Narcissa and Bellatrix had learned, and had somehow passed over their estranged middle sister? How had Andromeda resisted the indoctrination, the same one that defined Narcissa and her family's existence?

"However," the reptile-like man was saying, "I am pleased to report that the damage dealt here is not without repair." As soon as he had spoken, Narcissa knew exactly where he was going with it, and it took all her willpower and self-control not to grab Draco and Disapparate far away, away from the Ministry, the Death Eaters, and her sister Bella.

"Mrs. Malfoy...may I call you Cissy...I would like to speak to Draco alone, if you please."

Narcissa turned and glanced at her son, fighting back a desperate cry. Draco's face was nearly the same color as his hair as he let out a small squeak. His body was shaking as if he was having a seizure, and his facial muscles were twitching without restraint. Narcissa's hand moved to her robes concealing her wand, but Bellatrix grabbed her wrist.

"Draco, you must realize it is a great honor in itself to speak with the Dark Lord alone!" Bellatrix exclaimed, her enthusiasm barely masking her intense panic, fear of her master's certain disapproval, "I am sure you will do us all proud by serving him, doing whatever he asks!"

Draco looked at his mother pleadingly, silently begging her not to leave her with the man who had cast a lingering shadow on the family for as long as he could remember. Narcissa gazed back tearfully as Bellatrix gripped her arm, pulling her towards the dining hall.

Once the two women had disappeared from the room, Voldemort casually sat himself down on the armchair facing the empty fireplace as if it were his own.  
"Sit down, Draco," he said, maintaining his calm demeanor.

Draco was not foolish enough to believe this was a request. With a glance at the doorway through which his mother had exited, the teenage boy crept over to the couch opposite Voldemort and sat down, unable to look directly at him.

"As you must have guessed, the responsibility to amend for your father's failure in the Department of Mysteries falls onto your young shoulders, Draco, as his sole heir and child." The Dark Lord had spoken his NAME, while talking directly to him! Draco wished he was an innocent first year again, not fully understanding the Death Eaters and their ideology beyond what his father told him, his biggest worries being getting a racing broom and beating Granger on the Potions test.

Gone were the days where he could enjoy his days at Hogwarts, embracing Slytherin culture and taking part in the rivalry with Gryffindor. Quidditch meant nothing now, as did trips to Hogsmeade and House points. This was life and death.

"While you admittedly are young, and perhaps not as trained as I would like for a new recruit, these are desperate times, young Malfoy, desperate times that require serious action to be taken."

Draco listened, taking in every word and replaying it in his mind.

"What I have to say is a great honor for you, Draco. You will be the envy of your friends at Hogwarts, you will receive far greater experience than any student of Dumbledore can hope for. I would like to declare you as an official Death Eater."

The last two words were drawn out for dramatic effect. Draco still did not dare speak or look Voldemort directly in the eye. Once upon a time, this would have been a dream come true. The Death Eaters of the First Wizarding War had always seemed to be heroes, figures of legend out to preserve traditional values and magical heritage.

Draco had believed it, and to some extent, still did. Yet now he had seen exactly the affects of the war, the tragedy, the deaths of many, including young people like himself. Once, he had dismissed these casualties as unimportant, in comparison to the ultimate goals of the Dark Lord. Now, however, Cedric Diggory had died, one moment a Hogwarts student like Draco, Quidditch star, champion, leader, the next the first casualty of war. It could have been me, Draco had realized. This was no game. It could have been him, or anybody who had merely been in the way.

"While this is certainly cause for celebration, I have a task for you already, one only a Hogwarts student such as yourself can complete." Voldemort paused and leaned in towards Draco, prolonging every syllable.

"You must kill Albus Dumbledore."

Draco remained silent, taking in every word as he stared at the linen below him. His life was changing, so fast, speeding towards a ledge and preparing to crash.

True, Draco held no respect for the aged headmaster, despising his Muggle and Mudblood-loving ways and obvious favoritism towards Gryffindor, especially famous Potter and his friends. He would not feel sad if Dumbledore died, Draco had to admit.

Yet Dumbledore also served as a symbol to Draco, becoming clearer over the last several days. He was the last line of defense between Draco and the horrible reality he was forced to reckon with now, the burden of his birthright.

"Everything depends on the old fool's death," Voldemort informed the terrified boy beholding him, "Only then can I advance my plans for the larger Wizarding World... and only then will your family's safety be insured."

Draco understood this very well, instantly catching the not-so-veiled threat. Inwardly, he was falling apart. His father, helpless and locked away, his mother, here at home and as scared as he was, emotionally fragile without her husband...

"I am unconcerned as to what methods you use in your mission, as long as they are effective. Everything, as I said, depends on your success in killing Albus Dumbledore, everything..." the Dark Lord spoke at a whisper now... "Including your own life."

Draco could not stop himself from letting out a squeal. His skin was clammy and his hair was pouring with sweat. Tears burned his eyes as his youth ended in his own sitting room, at that very second.

Voldemort took note of this and, with a satisfied smile, stood from the armchair and stepped towards Draco. "One more thing, before I relieve you of my presence. Something to solidify your loyalty to me, the highest honor of a servant of Lord Voldemort. Your sleeve, please."

Voldemort gestured to Draco's arm, concealed by his Slytherin uniform. Draco knew exactly what was coming next, he had seen it on his father and Aunt Bellatrix. Shaking uncontrollably, Draco slowly drew back his sleeve to expose his pale forearm.

"Excellent," Voldemort knelt down beside the seated, cowering boy and took his arm in his white hands, pressing flesh against bone.

"Welcome to the Order," Voldemort declared, "You shall now be bound to me for life." He gave a hiss, his haunted, face inches from Draco, his scarlet eyes piercing into Draco's terrified soul.

As Voldemort pressed his hand onto Draco, an intense burning sensation came over his arm. Draco at last let out a loud, excruciating wail as the Dark Mark was engrained into his skin.

Having been listening from the kitchen, Narcissa, unable to bear it any longer, started out towards the exit, but Bellatrix blocked her path. "Cissy, no!"

She grabbed her sister's arm as Narcissa tried to push past her, Draco's screams of pain echoing throughout the manor.

"My only son," Narcissa sobbed as she tried to wrestle her sister, Bellatrix now holding both her arms, "My only child."

"Shut up!" Bellatrix whisper-screamed as Narcissa managed to catch her wrist and pry her arm loose. Bellatrix forced Narcissa against the wall and said fiercely, "Do you want to make it worse for us all?" Her terror of her master's displeasure could not have been more evident.

Narcissa continued to sob as Draco's shouts ceased, the Dark Mark shining fresh on his arm, permanently a part of his physical being. A crack indicated that Lord Voldemort had left.


	3. Chapter 3

Contrary to the common student belief, the teachers of Hogwarts school did not sleep under their desks, nor did they magically (despite living in the Wizarding World) disappear after each year and reappear into being at the end of the summer holidays.

Minerva McGonagall, like any teacher in her opinion should, never allowed her decades worth of students to view more than a limited amount of her private side, the aspects of her character that existed beyond both her career as a teacher and member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Both were parts of her life, despite being the two most dominant, that she wished at the moment she could ignore for an indefinite period of time.

The one beacon of hope for the good side during her entire career was gone. Albus Dumbledore's life had been taken by the one he trusted arguably more than McGonagall herself.

She had never understood Dumbledore's sudden confidence in young Severus Snape, but Dumbledore was Dumbledore, and what he thought would work for the greater good usually worked in the best interest of all. So McGonagall had come to trust Snape like she did the other teachers who had committed to educating the future generations of magical society, and he had given little reason to doubt his loyalty to Dumbledore, despite his reputation and mostly negative interactions with the students.

Yet Minerva's worldview, as well as her personal shield from the horrific reality that Hogwarts had once been a shield from, was shattered. Even the great Dumbledore had been proven wrong, and it had not only cost him his own life, but it had sent a message that not even Hogwarts was safe anymore.

Death Eaters had stormed the protected grounds at the behest of one of the school's students, and the man who had been serving the Dark Side the entire time had shown his true colors.

Everything Potter had said about Snape had been correct, and worse, Minerva McGonagall reflected as she knitted a new bonnet for her tabby cat, it was the price she and Dumbledore both paid for not listening to someone so young. True, Potter was not exactly impartial, but she should have seen the suspicious signs in her longtime colleague sooner, Minerva now recognized.

McGonagall was well aware of the authoritative presence she radiated among her students, both in Gryffindor house and the other three, and it suited her just fine. She had no need to befriend the pupils of Hogwarts, just to educate them as much as was in her power and prepare them appropriately for the harsh world that awaited, now more so than ever.

Yet even she was capable of fear and vulnerability, that only could be sustained by the assurance and powerful presence of Dumbledore, one who inspired many like herself. Her whole life Minerva had looked up to the wise and eccentric wizard, going to him for guidance and relying on him like most of the Wizarding community to maintain security and peace throughout the civilized world.

She imagined it was much worse for the students who had endured the Death Eater Attack, but McGonagall had a difficult time escaping the images that haunted both her waking hours and her dreams.

The wall of the Astronomy Tower crumbling, the students fleeing from the attacking Death Eaters including the werewolf Greyback, Hagrid's hut on fire, the body in silk robes sprawled in the courtyard, broken and exhausted from the horrors and trauma it had lived through...

Her train of thought was interrupted by a loud, rather rude knocking on the door of McGonagall's simple wooden cottage on a hilltop, within a small, coniferous forest.

Minerva paused to assemble the facade of invulnerable authority that she projected while working at Hogwarts, and anytime in public for that matter, and put down her knitting. While her cat shyly slinked towards the back door, McGonagall strode to answer whoever had come knocking.

A unpleasant knot in her stomach was formed as she swung the creaking door open to reveal a certain Pius Thicknesse, who she recognized as an official of the Ministry.

"May I help you, Mr. Thicknesse?"

"Ah, you are Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts, I believe," the goateed man said with disgusting politeness.

"That would be me."

"I don't know if you've read the news in the _Prophet_ yet, but I have just been appointed Minister of Magic in lieu of the recently departed Scrimgeour."

"Yes, I was well aware of your appointment," McGonagall replied, her cold stare and overall demeanor masking her deeply hidden fury bordering on psychotic rage, "It does seem suspicious however, how abruptly Scrimgeour resigned and disappeared, doesn't it?"

Thicknesse looked uncomfortable, gazing off into the trees surrounding them before turning back to reply. "Well, this is a trying time for many of us, Minerva..."

"Professor McGonagall, if you don't mind."

"Forgive me, Professor. As I said, perhaps Mr. Scrimgeour could simply not handle the pressures of the office at this time, and chose to take a...vacation to relieve himself of the burden."

"I don't believe Mr. Scrimgeour is the only one whose job has become difficult," McGonagall replied frostily, barely keeping from turning her wand on this imposter, "Many of us have suffered great losses in the past couple years."

"Ahhh... yes, Professor, that's really what I'm here about. You'll be pleased to know that the Ministry has selected an appropriate replacement for the sadly departed Dumbledore, one who knows the students and school well and who is fully dedicated to serving the youth as well as the larger community."

"I would be most curious to know who you selected, Minister," Minerva glared at him as she crossed her arms sternly, as if he was a student whom she had caught sneaking out in the corridors late at night.

"Fortunately, I have brought him here to meet you," Thicknesse replies, gesturing to someone just out of McGonagall's eyesight, "Headmaster, if you will."

McGonagall's rage multiplied tenfold as she took in the appearance of Severus Snape, his facial features and black robes exactly the same, yet his person entirely different now that Minerva knew exactly where his loyalty lay and how little had had held for the side he'd sworn to have embraced.

"Professor McGonagall, I trust that the summer holidays are keeping you well," Snape said in his usual cold, bitter tone that now made Minerva's ears ring as if they would explode. How she wanted to hex that awful traitor, curse him into dust and ashes right here on her front porch.

"I'm sure you won't mind inviting us in for a chat," Thicknesse chimed in, possibly sensing the tension between the two teachers. He stepped up and before McGonagall could reach for her wand, walked into her sitting room.

Snape did not make eye contact as he followed suit.

"I'm sure you must also be aware of the resignation of your Muggle Studies Professor, Charity Burbage," Thicknesse stated as he sat down on the couch. Snape on the other hand, remained standing, staring with a stony face at the ancient wooden floor.

"I did hear of it," Minerva replied fiercely, "strange that her resignation coincided so closely with that of Scrimgeour, but I'm sure she left for her own health as well."

She looked very doggedly at Snape, who now turned his head to conceal his face entirely from Minerva. What was going through that man's disloyal head, Minerva did not know and was now beyond caring. He'd made his choice young, and she was a fool like Albus for thinking a follower of such extreme evil could be brought back.

It seemed that Thicknesse did not notice the shift if mood as he spoke, "Fortunately, Headmaster Snape had found a replacement on such short notice, if you are familiar with the likes of Miss Alecto Carrow."

McGonagall knew very well who Alecto Carrow was, she had fought the woman during the raid of the Astronomy Tower, as the Potter and his friends took it upon themselves to try and take down the monster who stood in her own home now, unable to look at her.

"I trust she'll do her best to uphold the values of the school and the subject she teaches," McGonagall replied with as much venom as she could, her words not at all matching her body language.

"Along with her brother Amycus, who has been selected to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. The Headmaster and I trust the new additions to the staff will only serve as an improvement in the lives of those youngsters," Thicknesse said with a false tone of cheer.

"That remains to be seen," McGonagall replied, staring pointedly at the back of Snape's head as he deliberately faced away from her.

"I'm sorry, Minerva, but I really must be going now," Thicknesse said, standing and beginning to stride towards the doorway, "I trust you'll be coming along soon, Severus?"

Without waiting for his fellow thug of Voldemort, Thicknesse grabbed the door handle and swung it open obnoxiously, stepping out and drawing his wand to Disapparate.

Snape had begun to exit as well, then turned with a start as he realized that he was alone in Minerva's house with her given the intentional abruptness of Thicknesse's departure.

"Well, Minerva, I must head out now," he said as if things were perfectly normal between them, "I hope you find peace during the holidays and heal properly from the... trauma we all have faced. I shall see you back at school."

At last, McGonagall found it within herself to speak directly to Snape. "Listen to me, Severus Snape. You and I both know what happened on the Astronomy Tower, whatever delusions anyone else carries. Dumbledore paid with his life trusting you, and risked us all so you had a place to stay after the first war! I will do whatever I can to protect the students from your evil Death Eater ways! You may threaten, you may try to send me to Azkaban, but I will fight with my last breath for their safety, and I promise you that the good will triumph in the end and you and your master will FALL AGAIN!"

At last Minerva had an outlet for the hatred that she had carried, even if she could not express it with her wand. It was Potter who she had to put her faith in now, it was the Boy Who Lived who now carried the torch of hope as he continued Dumbledore's mission, while she remained at Hogwarts to do whatever she could for the youngsters who now lived in a world of terror and fear.

Snape gave the elder professor a bow after a long, excruciating pause and said, "We shall see. Until then, good day, Minerva."

And with a flash of his wand, he too had disappeared.

Before she could control herself, Minerva was beside herself, collapsing in intense sobs on the carpet, completely alone and lost, for the first time without the guidance she'd depended on as long as she could remember. Even teachers needed support, she knew, and hers had gone forever.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I think I will attempt a rewrite of my deleted story _The Scorpion King,_ with a fine tuned version more consistent with what we saw in CC.

"I still say this is bloody suicide," Neville whispered as he and Ginny crept along the dark, empty Gryffindor common room. Outside the window, which allowed a small bit of moonlight in the otherwise pitch black Gryffindor Tower, the vague outlines of several Dementors could be seen hovering over the lake. "We're Gryffindors, but we're not suicidal!"

"Shh," his friend and fellow Dumbledore's Amry leader Ginny Weasley said as she put a finger to her lips. "We can't back out now, Luna's expecting us at Snape's office. We can't let her deal with the Carrows alone!"

"Yeah, you're right," Neville grumbled as the two kept on. There was really no point in being particularly stealthy when they were in the confines of their own common room. Nobody from Gryffindor House, or Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for that matter, was going to rat them out to the Voldemort supporting Carrows or the murderer Snape. Nobody cared anymore about House Points or the Cup. Even the younger years knew full well how high the stakes were and how great of an enemy Dumbledore's Army was preparing to fight against.

The Slytherins on the other hand were a completely different story.

Even the Fat Lady remained completely silent in the interest of Ginny and Neville as they snuck along the corridor. "Harry's cloak would come in real handy now," Neville muttered.

"Or maybe the Map so we could make sure Luna made it all right," Ginny added, "I have a Bat Bogey hex ready for the first one we see patrolling. As long as they don't kill us, we're good. They're not going to want to waste any pure blood."

"I guess you're right," Neville replied, his nerves only slightly alleviated.

"Stop!" Ginny froze as a ghostly form floated by, appearing from the intersecting corridor that led towards Ravenclaw tower, which was located on the western wing of the castle.

Neither Gryffindor dared exhale as the spirit floated closer. It soon became apparent that the nighttime wanderer was their own ghost, Nearly Headless Nick.

Upon seeing the two rooted, terrified teenagers, Nick put a transparent finger to his lips and said, "Miss Lovegood's all safe, I managed to distract Peeves on the eastern wing, that way Filch won't be anywhere near?"

"Thanks Nick," Neville sighed, thoroughly relieved.

"What about the teachers?" Ginny asked the partially decapitated Gryffindor ghost.

"I'm sure I saw Professor Flitwick walking by, and he must have seen Miss Luna strolling along," Nick replied, "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about with Snape out of the castle. I've got the Friar looking after her too."

"All right Nick, you've been a great help," Ginny whispered, "We owe you."

"Nonsense, a Gryffindor's always got to help another Gryffindor," Nick replied, "And Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs too, of course," he added quickly before floating out of sight.

"All right, just as we planned," Ginny said to Neville. Even the paintings were in on it, not making a sound as the two crept along towards the staircase where Luna was due to meet them.

A distant crash could be heard from the Great Hall, presumably whatever distraction Peeves was causing. Shouting and the sound of hexes in the distance confirmed this.

"Nothing to do with us," Neville muttered, "she should be coming along soon."

For several painful minutes, the two waited at the foot of the staircase for a lone, lithe figure to emerge from the arched corridor.

As they waited, Ginny's thoughts wandered, not for the first time, to their three bravest friends and the truest Gryffindors in Dumbledore's Army, who now wandered the magical world on whatever quest Ron and Hermione were following Harry on.

For a moment, Ginny felt slightly guilty that the first face that came into her mind was Harry rather than her brother Ron, but the guilt died down as she wondered whether Harry, despite breaking up with her, now thought about her as he hid wherever he was.

Maybe she was being selfish, with so much more at risk than their teenage relationship, but the worries and questions still flowed through her mind. She knew what stakes Harry was facing, what he was doomed to face, but Ginny could not help but wonder whether she remained in the thoughts and heart of the Chosen One.

As Ginny continued to ponder, Neville suddenly squeezed her arm as another figure emerged from the shadows of night.

A shout of "PEEVES!" could be heard from below as Nearly Headless Nick laughed at Amycus Carrow's attempts to catch the poltergeist. In the Great Hall, Dungbombs were going off one by one as the ghosts worked to help distract Alecto, Amycus and Filch.

"Luna!" Ginny whispered as he beckoned her over to the staircase.

Luna tiptoed over to her two best friends. "I still can't believe we're doing this," she whispered, "I've been spending too much time with you Gryffindors."

"We can't back out now," Neville replied, "All the ghosts and portraits are on our side."

"All right, let's go," Ginny said.

The three of them moved up the staircase which led towards the headmaster's office. Though it looked exactly the same on the outside, a grim, forbidding shadow had been cast over it without the protection of Dumbledore and a known Death Eater living inside.

When they reached the entrance, they were predictably greeted by the stone eagle that served as a barrier to the spiral staircase leading into the headmaster's office. All three of them had been in there before, captured by Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad and Ginny after being rescued from the Chamber of Secret.

"Psst!" a voice whispered from the wall opposite the sealed entrance.

The startled Ginny pulled out her wand, but it was the figure of the late Armando Dippet, who had moved from his own portrait into that of the sleeping Sir Cadogan.

"The password is _Cervidae,"_ Dippet whispered to Ginny, Neville and Luna. The elderly wizard winked at the three youngsters and disappeared into the painting.

"Thanks," Neville said after him.

Luna repeated the word, "Cervidae," to the eagle, and with a creak, the sculpture shifted to reveal the staircase that lead into the forbidden room where Professor Snape resided.

"No turning back now," Ginny said, and led the way up into Snape's office.

"It was the sword we were going for, right?" Neville asked her as they entered the dark room.

"We'd better be careful it isn't filled with..." Luna began, but before she could say whatever superstitious object or creature the sword could

be filled with, the entire offfice suddenly lit up and several wands were pointed at the trio.

"Caught in the act!" Pansy Parkinson exclaimed gleefully.

"You gonna die for this," Crabbe gloated as he leered at the three would be vandals with eager anticipation.

Automatically, Ginny, Neville and Luna went for their wands, but Blaise Zabini said, "Don't even try. You blood traitors are outnumbered."

"We gonna Cruciate them now?" Goyle asked, "Warm them up for the Carrows?"

"No, they're going to get worse than that," Theodore Nott replied, "Snape's going to give them to the Dark Lord for this, won't he?"

Their initial shock and fear being replaced by anger and determinatin, the three leaders of the new Dumbledore's Army looked at each other in agreement. There was no escape for them, but they all knew one thing, without having to say it: they would not die as prisoners of Voldemort. They would go down fighting.

Ginny went first, aiming her infamous Bat Bogey Hex at Parkinson.

As Neville aimed a spell at Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle simultaneously let out a loud bellow.

"CRUCIO!"

All three were blasted with intense pain as they were overtaken by the Cruciatus curse, determined not to give their Slytherin captors the pleasure of hearing them scream.

As Luna, Ginny and Neville tried their best to remain strong despite the excruciating physical torture ravaging their bodies, a loud voice boomed, "STOP!" and the spells were retracted at once.

In a mixture amazement and hate, the three looked up towards the fireplace from which Snape had just emerged. He was glaring at them with rage, then turned to the Slytherins.

"We got them, Headmaster," Nott said proudly, "Weasley over there tried to do one of her hexes, but we were too fast for her."

"Very well, Nott," Snape replied in his cold, indifferent voice, "All of you are dismissed. Your work is done. Except you, Crabbe."

The Slytherins shuffled towards the spiral staircase, looking back with sadistic pleasure at the captured students. Crabbe looked questioningly at Snape as the Headmaster turned his wand on the trio.

"Crabbe, I want you to go fetch Hagrid, and have him come here. There's no need to mention this to the Carrows, I shall deal with these three myself."

Crabbe nodded his big troll head and swaggered out.

Snape regarded the troublemakers coldly, pacing the room like a vulture.

"So, the three of you thought you would rally the school against me and break into my office."

Ginny, Neville and Luna exchanged defiant looks, knowing there was nothing to lose now.

"The Wrackspurts are going to get you for this!"

"You lying, murdering DEATH EATER!"

"You bloody snake bastard, you're never going to get away with this!"

"Harry's going to win, and you're going to die, you old bat!"

It felt particularly good for Neville to shout such abuse at the man who had made his life at Hogwarts a living hell for the last six years.

Snape, uncharacteristically, took in their bashing in silence and without interrupting them. When the three had finally exhausted their vocal chords, he at last spoke.

"This misdemeanor, as you know, cannot go unpunished. You will all..."

"What are you gonna do, have us Cruciated again?"

"SHUT UP! You will all face nightly detention for three days, and two hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor, and one hundred from Ravenclaw."

"Taking points away! What else is new?"

Footsteps came trudging up the spiral staircase and the massive figure of Rubeus Hagrid appeared in the headmaster's office.

"Whaddaya want, Snape?" Hagrid asked in a tired, defeated voice. He had two very noticeable black eyes, one on each side.

"I'd expect you to treat your employer with more respect, Hagrid. I'm putting these three in detention with you. Take them to the Forbidden Forest. I believe our supply of unicorn blood is low again?"

"That's all yer doing to em?" Hagrid asked suspiciously, "What's yer boss gonna say?"

"I was not aware that was any of your business!" Snape replied, clearly losing his patience, "Theu will go with you at this hour, eleven o clock, tonight and the next two nights until three in the morning. Take Lovegood and Longbottom now. Miss Weasley will join you shortly."

Sadly and defeatedly, Luna and Neville made way to follow Hagrid out of the office. Ginny remained where she was, her hand drifting to her wand before she saw Snape's still trained on her.

"Miss Weasley, I know Longbottom and Lovegood haven't the brains to concoct such an elaborate and audacious stunt. I assume you were the ringleader, then?"

"Everything we've ever said about you is true, and worse!" Ginny fired back, unafraid of the threatening man before her, "Do what you will to me, Harry will defeat you in the end!"

Snape stroked his greasy chin in contemplation. "I see you have the fiery spirit of a Gryffindor and friend of Potter." He bent down slightly and to Ginny's repulsion, gazed straight into her eyes, then flinched in disappointment as if he was expecting to see something there and didn't.

"Along with the revoking of your house points and detentions, I am taking your Hogsmeade privileges away for the year," Snape informed the furious girl, "Let that teach you not to try and undermine authority again. Begone, and catch up to Hagrid and the others."

Ginny gave one last scathing look at Snape before exiting. It was only when she'd caught up to the others and was deep into the Forest that she paused to wonder why Snape's punishment for the three of them had been so light.

The question swiftly drifted out of her mind, however, as it ultimately didn't matter. Snape would get what was coming to him anyway.


End file.
